


Sweet Like Nuka-Cherry

by jordanthenerd



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blood and Gore, Breeding, Canon Gay Character, Crying, Daddy Kink, Depression, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mating, Mutual Pining, Not really slow burn, Nuka-World Amusement Park (Fallout), Oral Sex, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-21 05:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21069368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jordanthenerd/pseuds/jordanthenerd
Summary: Delilah Thorne’s reign of good is over. Gone is the woman who’s main cause in life was to save her God Son and overthrow the Institute. With the fall of the Institute and the passing of the seasons came a new craving...one for blood, anarchy, and a world without rules... a craving for Nuka-World.And soon, Lila is picking up the lost scraps of her humanity in the park ruins, with a man who’s animalistic primal instincts are nothing short of sexually enticing.Maybe Delilah will find a new reason for her heart to beat?





	1. Delilah Thorne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you remember what you told me when we first met? And you said you wanted to travel with me?” Lila asked, lifting the cigarette back to her lips to take a strong drag, her thick lashes fluttered shut as she puffed a murky cloud into the stale air of the room in the Old State House.
> 
> “‘course,” Hancock replied, leaning back in his seat as he soaked up his gorgeous companion. “How could I forget?”
> 
> “Dog,” She chastised him with a smile, her eyes flickering up to stare at the Mayor who offered her a lopsided grin. But the small smile slipped from her lips, her voice voiding all emotion except for evident concern. “You told me...’this classy little tricorner hat of mine is getting heavy...’”
> 
> Hancock paused, rocks glass of whiskey pressed against his lips as he stared the young woman. And when she had looked up, Hancock was lost in a world of cyan and spring green, watery tears threatening her vision. They weren’t tears of pain or sadness...but it was pure unadulterated helplessness. And he had a damn good feeling he was the first one to actually fucking notice.
> 
> “My hat is getting a little heavy, too, Hancock...and I ain’t got anywhere to run...”

**The Commonwealth**

**Sanctuary**

**February 2288**

_Can you see the flowers?_

Her eyes, vivacious shade of aquamarine and pre-war green, emptily stared out the window of the broken home in Sanctuary Hills. She was drifting off further into the dark realm of her mind, where gunfire crackled like rhythmic music, and the screams sounded like sweet opera. 

_The lovely shades of red...the scarlet, the crimson, the vermilion and ruby blossoming under the white fabric like the first drop of ink on a blank canvas..._

Her delicate, longer pointer finger stroked the trigger of her Deliverer almost lovingly as her brain wandered deeper into the uncharted territory.

_Can you see the flowers? The way it pools in the streets in thick, misshapen puddles, creating artwork in the asphalt..._

Was there someone speaking to her? The voice sounded so distant and muffled...they were calling for her. What were they saying?

_Can you see the flowers? Quickly now, before the summer rain destroys the masterpiece, sweeping it down into the sewers as though it never existed in the first place..._

"General!"

_Can you see the flowers?_

"What?" Lila gasped, ripped back to reality with the force of a freight train as she felt the hand of her second in command shaking her. Preston Garvey stared down at her, brown eyes radiating concern as he removed his hand. 

"I'm sorry, General Thorne, you weren't responding. You've been staring at the same piece of armor for over an hour now...it's pretty damaged, shouldn't we just scrap it for cloth?" Garvey spoke gingerly to her, but Lila was fading off again, her bright eyes falling on her General's tricorn hat, battered and tattered from years of wear and tear. It felt...heavy. Who was she now? She felt more and more like she was playing a role with every passing day. Less human and more primal. Was she losing her mind? Had her manic state of depression finally caught up to her? Was she going insane? 

Preston was still talking but she had tuned in to a different radio station. 

What kind of leader was she, that the only thrill she felt, the only thing that made her heartbeat...was when she was taking another person's life? Granted, someone who deserved it, but nonetheless, whether it was raiders, gunners, ferals, or regular-degular run of the mill critters, it was the only thing that made her heart race. Lila felt less than human and beyond unworthy of leading the minutemen to their great cause. 

_Cleansing the Commonwealth..._Jesus Christ, hadn't they cleansed it enough? By this point, Lila felt like she had ministered to the Commonwealth like a traveling preacher and baptized Boston as a whole. How did people still need her!? And why the fuck was it _just _her!? And that was when she heard Preston speaking, and her blood began to simmer like a pot over an open fire. 

"-got word of a settlement that needs our help. We can use all the support we can get. So see what you can do to help. I'll mark it on your map."

A muscle in her jaw jumped as she clenched it, her fists tightening as she thought of having to go and lend a hand to yet _another _helpless settlement. Honestly, humanity made it this far without her, what the hell did they need her for now? She felt like she was spoon-feeding these fucking people. She could see his lips moving, but the noise his mouth made was annoying droning instead of real vocabulary. She felt her hands itch and ache, wanting to punch Preston's lights out for dropping another settlement on her head. How many times had she helped a settlement while Preston Garvey stood here whistling show tunes and smoking his cigarettes?

"General?"

"Hangman's Alley, I heard you," She quipped coldly, her bright aquamarine eyes darting towards the door. Preston fell silent, his palms perspiring a little more in his gloves as he awkwardly swallowed and gave a curt nod and took his leave. With the sound of the door slam, Lila rose to her feet and walked toward the bathroom. In the dirty mirror, she caught sight of her reflection and the dame in the mirror sighed. 

Delilah Thorne. 

Shit, you couldn't throw a rock in Pre-War America without hitting someone who knew her name or her work. She used to make _art. _Beautiful, lasting art with magnificent watercolor, fine lines, abstract work, and cover-ups...Lila was a talented tattoo artist, breaking the mold of women and ink. If that didn't speak volumes, her own body was her resume, and, God, was it the most well written.

Her right arm was inked with an abstract, detailed lion, exotic flowers flowing from his mane and winding around her elbow, and a songbird flying across her forearm. It wasn't too busy, she didn't want to distract from the detail, but to bring out and enhance the art itself. Her right hip was painted with a pocket watch face and chain, dripping with snow white and scarlet red roses, a memento to her favorite childhood story. 

Hell, sometimes she felt like she was tumbling down the rabbit hole. 

But the canvas itself...she had creamy, warm caramel skin, sweet and supple to look at. Her mother cried the day she got her first tattoo and ruined her beautiful skin. Ah, yes, her mother. Delilah descended from a mixed heritage with Dominican, Amazonic, Ecuadorian, and Morrocan roots. Save for her father who was very, very white and Italian. She supposed that's how she got her eyes. Two pools of piercing bright blue stood out in contrast to her lovely tan skin. Those very eyes were framed by thick, sultry eyelashes, and perfectly well-groomed brows that all sat upon her diamond-shaped face. 

The apples of her cheeks pulled back in a forced smile, displaying perfectly straightened, pristine white teeth that had been bleached to perfection many, many years ago. 

The smile dropped, her pink lips sliding back into the blank stare she previously donned. A delicate hand reached up into her hair, wrenching it from its confines in a bun on the top of her head. Natural, onyx ringlets fell across her shoulders in thick layers. Her curly, dark hair was her crowning jewel piece of who she was, of her mixed heritage. Most men wanted their women with insufferably white skin and pale blonde hair or sunkissed auburn, but Lila kicked down doors in 2077. Her pin-ups would be plastered on the walls of young schoolboys whose mothers would scream and rip them down. 

The response was an ever-shifting amount of welcoming and hatred. Of course, in those days, people had problems of their own, what with the Great War going on. 

So it only made sense, that Nate, the only man she had ever truly loved, the only man that never looked at her with disgust, the only man who treated her as an equal and supported her career choices...would marry her best friend, Nora. 

Nora always had that classic, girl-next-door look. Short, elegant brown hair and soft doe-brown eyes. She was your average, cute, law student. And somehow, before Nate slipped off to Anchorage, they got hitched. What a slap to the face, when she stood at that airport, watching Nate and Nora kiss, that ring glinting on her left hand. Delilah had come running, sprinting, to make sure she could see Nate one last time if it would be their last time, ready to throw it all on the line and confess everything...until she saw _that. _ When Nate had looked up at her and smiled, all Delilah could do was force the hardest smile to her face as the hot tears bled into her eyes. 

After everything, after years of chasing...she still wasn't enough. 

And her best friend as well...

For months into Nate's deployment, she rejected Nora's phone calls, listening to the voicemails on her answering machine as Nora cooed about the marriage, asking if they wanted to get their nails done...singing about her pregnancy... there were times when she would pick up the phone, only to tell Nora she was busy with clients, photographers, and marketers. And then Nora told her she wanted Lila to be godmother to her child...

Nora was her best friend, of course, she knew that Delilah couldn't have kids. Ovarian cysts rendered her nearly infertile. Gynecologists told her it would take fertility treatments for her to ever conceive and even that wasn't guaranteed. 

She stopped answering the phone after that. 

Nora called every week until she stopped calling. And after almost a year since Nate left, she got a voicemail from the Sergeant First Class himself. 

_"Hey, Lila...it's me. Nate. I know I've been gone for a long time, but...*sigh* I don't know how else to say this...Nora died... complications with childbirth-,"_ And that was all she needed to hear before she was in her car and burning rubber on the freeway from New York to Massachusetts. She had missed the funeral, it was earlier that day that Nate called, and while handling the will, they discovered Nora really had named Delilah Thorne godmother. According to Nate, Nora was fine, nearly one month after childbirth and Nate had finally come home, and suddenly he rolled over one morning and she was just...cold. 

According to the coroner, the cause of death was a blood clot. 

Delilah unofficially moved in after that, her lengthy client list begrudgingly understanding. She felt like she was living the suburban dream. Shaun was an angel and Nate and she grew closer. Sanctuary Hills was a quaint community. She took Shaun to the park, felt the wayward glances of other moms with children as they stared at Lila with disgust and intrigue; she would change in her bedroom at home, glance at the window and see Ms. Rosa's son, Bobby, peeking in her window blinds at her; and sit in the carport with her favorite cup of Joe, courtesy of Codsworth, the new Mister Handy unit Nate bought with his retirement bonus. 

But that... that was all an ashen memory, now. 

[][][][]

**The Commonwealth**

**Goodneighbor**

**February 2288**

Speckled in drops of blood, hands thrumming from the kick of her pistol and heart pumping wildly in her chest, Lila was _thriving _from the adrenaline rush, a pearly white Cheshire cat grin stretched across her face as the last super mutant hit the ground. The smell of burning tobacco tickled her nose and Lila's blue-green eyes flickered over to see her companion, Cait, had lit a cigarette. 

"That was some damn good fightin', Lila," Cait remarked, slinging thick gory red clots off her knuckles. "Ya' fight like a goddamn animal."

"Likewise, hon," Delilah practically purred as she holstered Deliverer.

_"General!" _A settler exclaimed, racing up to Lila, blubbering about how grateful they were for her to help and thrust a sack of caps at her. Lila grimaced, trying to ride out the high of her battle as she accepted to reward and watched the sod scramble back up to his guard post. Cait watched Lila curiously, noticing she wasn't as...amicable? Normally, Delilah was all grins and laughter. It had been almost a month since they traveled together, but she seemed distant now. Her warm touch was gone. 

"Oi, everything all right?" Cait asked, rather reluctantly. Delilah cracked a small smirk. Cait lacked a certain gentleness when it came to caring about others, although Cait was her closest confidant, she asked questions like these as more of a demand. 

Delilah turned to offer her companion a beaming smile and said, "I'm just killing for a drink right now, you feel?"

Cait grinned in response, taking a final drag of her cigarette before tossing the butt down and stomping it with her boot. 

"Oh, yeah, darlin', I feel. How's about Goodneighbor sound?" 

"Between your accent and Charlie's, I'll have a fucking headache," Delilah snorted and Cait chuckled at the idea. "But I suppose it couldn't hurt to check in with Hancock. See how he's doing."

* * *

Goodneighbor was still as _quaint _as she left it. The inviting, neon lights were the only things that offset the pungent scent of piss and liquor. KL-E-O's shop was still running, the assaultron humming happily at her favorite buyer as Lila passed by, and Daisy offered a wave to the fearless woman who found the cure for her dear MacCready's son. Lila and Cait separated on the promise Delilah would meet the redhead at the Third Rail for a shot of whiskey. As Cait disappeared into the old, subway station Delilah entered the Old State House. 

Lila took off the stupid General's hat as she entered, walking up the spiral staircase towards Hancock's office where she knew she would find him slumped on one of his couches. True to her words, there he sat, well, sprawled. Hancock, her ghoulish friend, was manspread on the couch, withered hand still clutching a beer bottle and a canister of empty Jet lay next to him. His head was tilted back, tricorner hat tipped over his face and the tattered American Flag tied around his waist was spread out evenly over his lap. He was still donned in his Red Frock coat, indicating he fell asleep while riding out his high. 

Fahrenheit cracked the faintest of smiles as she lay eyes on Delilah. 

"General," She greeted with a nod. 

"Noble henchman," Lila retorted sarcastically and Fahrenheit fullfledged grinned. 

"Come to visit the boss?"

"No, I stopped by to fix the leaky pipes," Delilah rolled her eyes. "'Course, I came to visit Hancock."

"He's all yours then. Been out for about an hour. It's time he woke up. Need to make sure he hasn't overdosed again," Fahrenheit said as she exited to the room with a fleeting, half-hearted wave. The door slammed shut behind her and Hancock let out an aggressive snore in response, indicating he wasn't dead yet, thankfully. 

"John," Delilah tried, but no response. "John!" A bit louder this time. He merely flinched. "John, Fred stole your chem stash." 

His eyes flew open then, snarling as he rolled to his feet, his tricorner hat offset on his radiation burned head as the beer bottle he held hit the ground. "Where is he!?" His obsidian eyes fell on the smug, sole survivor sitting on the couch opposite of him and he frowned, taking his seat again as he adjusted his hat. "Cheap trick, doll."

"I said your name twice, Hancock," She defended, mocking offense. Hancock merely grumbled as he pulled a pack of cigarettes off the table and lit one, taking a hit.

"Anyhow..." He said before offering her a soft smile. "Good to see you again, Lila, it's been a while."

"That it has," She sighed, watching the way the thin line of smoke wriggled in the air like a serpent. 

"To what do I owe the honor, General?" 

He noticed the way her face darkened at her address and she stood up. His eyes never left her as she walked over to the desk where his terminal was and set her hat down. He said nothing but watched with great dismay as she began shrugging off the blue General's coat, unhinged the combat armor chest piece and revealed a ruddy white shirt. Hancock's cigarette almost fell from his lips as he could make out the outline of her perfectly curved body. He doubted anyone in the Commonwealth had the courtesy of seeing her like this, exposing herself, and showing her throat. 

She walked back toward the couch, rolling up the sleeves of the white shirt and Hancock blinked in utter surprise as he was bare witness to the intricate art on her forearm, detailed with such great and vibrant color. The sleeves were only pushed up to her elbows, but he knew more lie beneath the button-up shirt...and suddenly he was grateful his sash covered his lap. He'd always thought Delilah was a beauty, but never had he seen her like this. A perfect, pre-war specimen, untouched by the Wasteland. 

"Can I have one?" She pointed to the pack of cigarettes. Hancock was speechless at this point. His vaultie was normally a cut and dry hoity-toity, she never dabbled in chems but she never shamed him for it. She'd only ever used stimpacks, and perhaps Med-X when she was trying to pull a bullet out of her thigh, but she never liked chems, much less, smoking. She always joked that it would kill Hancock one day.

He slid the pack across the table and she withdrew a cigarette, sliding it between her lush lips and flicked the lighter with skill. The lighter clattered against the table as she set it down and took a long drag from the rolled tobacco. When she exhaled, the smoke escaped her lips like a well-versed rumor from the mouth of a snitch. She had smoked before...In fact, Hancock would go as far as to say she was a prior chain smoker. 

Grimacing, Hancock picked up his empty beer bottle from the floor and set it on the table. He instead retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the coffee table nearby and a cloudy, rocks glass. He began busying himself with pouring a glass, deciding not to drink straight from the bottle like a sloppy drunk in front of this..._woman._

"So...did you just come up to my cozy little office to smoke my cigarettes and striptease for me?" Hancock broke the silence with an easy jovial taunt and Lila gave a half-hearted scoff. 

“Do you remember what you told me when we first met? And you said you wanted to travel with me?” Lila asked, lifting the cigarette back to her lips to take a strong drag, her thick lashes fluttered shut as she puffed a murky cloud into the stale air of the room in the Old State House.

“‘Course,” Hancock replied, leaning back in his seat as he soaked up his gorgeous companion. “How could I forget?”

“Dog,” She chastised him with a smile, her eyes flickering up to stare at the Mayor who offered her a lopsided grin. But the small smile slipped from her lips, her voice voiding all emotion except for evident concern. “You told me...’ this classy little tricorner hat of mine is getting heavy...’”

Hancock paused, rocks glass of whiskey pressed against his lips as he stared the young woman. And when she had looked up, Hancock was lost in a world of cyan and spring green, watery tears threatening her vision. They weren’t tears of pain or sadness...but it was pure unadulterated helplessness. And he had a damn good feeling he was the first one to fucking notice.

“My hat is getting a little heavy, too, Hancock...and I ain’t got anywhere to run...”

It gave him chills to hear those words come from her mouth. The woman who delivered the end to the Institute with her own two hands...The woman who single-handedly purged the Wasteland on behalf of the Minutemen...the woman who walked the Freedom Trail, who stood aboard the Prydwen... 

She seemed to hold the weight of the world on her shoulders, bearing the brunt of the sins of humanity to push them towards a better life. A _better life_. Hell, Delilah had seen this world at its best, and now she was running around in its ruins. 

"Shit, doll...why'd ya have to go and say it like that?" Hancock groaned as he set his glass down on the table. "What did you people used to do back in the day? You know, to unwind?"

Lila contemplated that for a moment, a nostalgic smile gracing the edges of her lips as she lost herself in the pre-war memories...

"Me and the girls I used to run with...we would sit in the sunroom of the penthouse, sipping our martinis and smoking our cigarettes while we listened to albums and gossipped..." Lila verbally illustrated, her words painting a very warm scene. "I was the only one who wasn't married, so they were constantly telling me about _this strapping young man, _or _that smart and handsome fellow_... Never followed through though. The only man I ever loved...well, he married my best friend."

Hancock let out a low hiss at the horrible news he just received. It burned...Holy hell did it burn. He would have never thought a woman as beautiful as Delilah Thorne would have to endure something so equally taboo and painful. That was the kind of shit you read in those old, pre-war gossip magazines. But of course, he knew the rest. It wasn't that hard to piece the rest of the puzzle together. Her best friend died, she moved in with Nate in some form of a contract marriage and she godmothered Shaun. In his mind, he could see it eventually playing out in her favor but it didn't quite feel right. 

"But, I'll level with you, John, I think what I'm feeling, it's a bit bigger than what cheap cigarettes, warm martinis, and Diamond City radio can do," Lila ran a hand through her curly black hair before letting her shoulders sag. "I used to be a hotshot, Hancock. If I ever felt like this world was getting to be too much, hell, adventure was only a plane ticket away. I traveled to gorgeous cities around the world, Venice, Rome, Greece, Croatia, Bora Bora..."

These names stunned the mayor into silence. He was sure they had meant something great and important back then. But he had no clue what they meant now. He could see her eyes glossing over, but not with tears. They were foggy with extravagant pre-war memories of a life left behind over 210 years ago. 

"And now I'm just trapped," She whispered, absentmindedly lifting the cigarette to her lips. "I'm trapped in Massachusettes running in the same circles with the same crowds. A vacation means just sending me to the next settlement over for a change in scenery. This isn't the life I wanted to live, John. I never wanted to be tethered down like this."

The ghoul stared at her for a moment, soaking in everything she had just dumped on him at one time. Lila watched as he picked up his glass and skulled the remainder of his drink in one swift toss before he slammed it back on the table loudly, shaking his head as he gritted down the hard liquor. She knew she had just word vomited all over Hancock, and she felt a little bad for it, too. Hancock already had his plate full with taking care of Goodneighbor ever since the fall of the Institute and he finally returned home after 'stretching his legs.' 

Yeah, maybe she should have thought this through a little more. 

"Listen," Hancock grunted, snapping her attention back to him. "I ain't sayin' this because I think this is a good idea. One of my men picked up up a radio broadcast signal just last week. Coming from some little place called _Nuka-World._"

"No, fucking, way..." Lila's blue-green eyes had widened considerably with speechless shock. 

"You heard it, too?" Hancock asked as he raised a non-existent brow and lifted a newly lit cigarette to his lips. 

"Heard it?" Delilah scoffed and she grinned massively. "Before the bombs, we had won tickets. It was to the_ End of the Season Halloween Bash._ Nate had scored us weekend passes. It was supposed to be a da-," She caught herself quickly. "It was supposed to be before Nuka-World closed for the winter. But we never got to go. The bombs dropped two days after Nate brought those tickets home...Shit, I would love to go, I think it would be awesome."

"Slow down there, doll," John warned her as he ashed his cigarette. "You need to listen to me. There's not one spot in this irradiated wasteland that nuclear fallout didn't touch. I don't doubt this theme park is an exception. And this signal? It _just _popped up. Randomly. As in: it wasn't fucking there before."

Was she even listening? She looked like she had gone distant again. The lights were on, but nobody was home. 

"Delilah. _Delilah!" _When she finally reacted, Hancock continued. "You need to consider that. Somebody turned it on for a reason. And I don't think it was a good one. I feel it...in my old, radiated bones."

"Nuka-World..." Lila hummed thoughtfully, testing it on her tongue as she inhaled another drag from her cigarette. 

He didn't like the way that the wonder and curiosity played across her face, intrigue twinkling her aquamarine eyes. He didn't like the way she puffed her cigarette again as she pondered the thought. He didn't like the way she burst into his office acting like a caged animal but now bore the mindset of a free bird. He didn't like the way she nodded like she understood but clearly wasn't listening. 

Hancock didn't like it. At all. 


	2. All Aboard the Nuka-Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Boss?! Boss!" Colter could hear Red-Eye faintly exclaiming over the intercom. The raider Overboss internally keened at the distraction his stupid disc-jockey had to offer from this wretched meeting with these idiot faction leaders. His dark brown eyes narrowed on the speaker on the wall and he lurched for it. 
> 
> "What is it, Red-Eye!" Colter snarled, making a demonstration of him feigned impatience. Mags and William sighed heavily as they exchanged a mutual, wordless glance and sat back in their chairs. Nisha, although eyes construed, glared darkly in the direction of Gage who couldn't fight the uneasy shiver that riddled his spine. 
> 
> "Oi, Boss!" Mason objected as he thumped a meaty fist on the coffee table. "We were talking about those goddamn parks! Let's finish what we started!"
> 
> "Uh, Boss, we got runners in the Gauntlet," This peaked Nisha's attention as her head snapped away from Gage and a bloodthirsty smile teased the edges of her small lips. "And, uh, they're mid-way through...you'd be better get down here. Quick."
> 
> "Well, I believe this calls for a bit of recess," Nisha cooed, all eyes falling on Porter Gage at that moment. They knew what had to be done.

**The Commonwealth**

**Sanctuary Hills**

**February 2288**

_"General? General?" _

Lila could hear Preston's incessant calling as she packed her ammo bag. She was standing in the community clubhouse, hunched over a steamer trunk in her office trying to scrounge up any loose 10mm rounds and shotgun shells she could shove in her ammo pouches. It didn't take long before the colonel found her and he gave an exasperated sigh. 

"General, there you are."

"I heard you calling, Preston, there was a reason I wasn't responding," Delilah darkly stated as she stood upright and turned to glare at him impatiently, resting a hand on her hip. It was then, the minuteman noticed her attire and he blinked owlishly. 

"What the hell are you wearing?" She noticed his face turn a shade darker and she awkwardly tried to fold her arms over her chest. "You're supposed to be in your uniform? What would the people think if they saw the fearless General of the Minutemen prancing around like this!"

"Watch yourself, Garvey," Lila quipped, broiling with annoyance at his sexist choice of words. "I doubt you remember, but this is what I used to wear before I started dressing in that General's garb you had me running around in."

Before she took on the title as General, Delilah shed her vault suit for a harness, finished with her lucky, combat army chest piece, sturdy leather armor for her arms, and reinforced, lightweight metal armor for her legs. She kept an old, ratty gray scarf around her neck that she used as a headdress to protect her face from sunburn, wind chapping, and dust storms. The chest piece shielded her breasts from being exposed like they were...now.

"What's this all about?" Preston asked, slinging his laser rifle over his shoulder. Lila shrugged on the breastplate and began latching the taps snugly across her shoulders. 

"I need to get out Preston. Go somewhere different. Get my feet wet in the world." 

Preston watched his General clasping each individual piece of armor across her limbs and he furrowed his brows. Was this a mid-life crisis? Delilah had been working hard lately, especially with the fall of the Institute in December, she had to be tired. But she was a strong leader, she wouldn't just turn her back on all this hard work....would she? She faced Preston again who's face relaxed and he offered her a small reassuring smile that caught her off guard. 

"I understand."

"You do?" Lila asked, confusion slipping into her tone as she lowered her left arm where she was clasping the last piece in place. Preston gave an affirming nod. 

"Yes. You take the time you need, General," Preston said as he reached into his pocket. "And when you're ready, we recieve word from the castle that there's another settlement that needs our help. You don't have to do it now, but when you're ready-,"

Was Preston Garvey being serious right now? A malignant cancer of rage began to spread through her body at an outrageous rate of speed. He couldn't actually be dumping more work on her! After she just told him she was leaving! Delilah's fists clenched tightly as her body began to quiver, anger spilling off her in waves as the minuteman spoke, filling her in on the details of the mission. She was positively foaming at the mouth, teeth-gnashing together as she fought to hold back the hateful words that threatened to spew from her lips until-,

**"No."**

The sudden response cut Preston off midspeech as he turned a startled look toward Lilah he was glowering at him with a dark expression painted over her tan face. 

"E-Excuse me?" He sputtered, surprised at what he had just heard. Maybe he heard wrong?

"I said 'no,' Preston."

Ah, he hadn't heard wrong. 

"G-General," Preston stammered, fumbling to find a rope to pull himself out of this hole he _just _realized he had dug himself in. "If this is about the outfit-,"

"The outfit!?" Lila screeched and then gave a short derisive laugh as she scowled at him. "You're joking, right? Are you even _listening _to yourself, Preston?" She grabbed all of her ammo and condensed it to her pouches across her weight as she shouldered past the Colonel. "No more. Fuck those settlements."

Preston flinched as if he had just been electrocuted as he scrambled after her. She descended the stairs two at a time as she double-checked her weapons, making sure she had all of her essentials. 

"Delilah, you don't mean that!" 

"Ohhh, but I do," She retorted, slinging her trusty shotgun over her shoulder. It was a heavily modified, Nightvision Hardened Automatic Combat Shotgun, and bore the name _Pursuit of Happiness _in the stock. "Preston, I'm leaving. I'm going away."

"B-But General!" Preston objected. "Please, you can't leave the Minutemen like this!"

"Like what?" She scoffed, spinning on the minuteman. "Restored to glory? Stable? Powerful?"

Garvey struggled to respond, clawing at any opportunity to keep her here, in Sanctuary. 

"Preston," She spoke and his eyes darted to meet her aquamarine stare. "I'm through with helping people. I'm the one who needs help now. And I have to help myself."

"But we need you, General," Preston begged, lowering his voice as he realized the settlers were looking at them with curiosity. 

"No. You don't," She replied, folding her arms over her chest. "If you're so worried about the Minutemen falling apart a second time, then step up and make sure that doesn't happen," Lila could tell she had struck a nerve as she noticed the way his lip curled and his eyes narrowed, so she continued. "Every time you send me out to 'help out a settlement' I go and do all the heavy lifting. And all you do is walk around whistling show tunes and smoking your cigarettes. You don't do a single thing to help unless I drag you out with me."

He didn't have much of a response to that. Delilah rolled her eyes. 

"Exactly."

She turned on her heel walking toward the gates of Sanctuary and Preston shouted after her. 

"Will you come back?" 

That stopped her in her tracks. Would she come back? Did she even want to? Her blue-green eyes scanned the ruins of Sanctuary, seeing vivid flashbacks flicker across her vision as she recalled a simpler life. A time that had more color, less damage, more people, fewer killers, more homes and fewer ruins. Would she come back? The place where she was born into a new life fresh out of the vault, searching for the last bit of Nora and Nate left in this Wasteland. Would she come back? 

"This is my home, Preston," Lila breathed, closing her eyes. "Of course I'll come back. I just need time to find myself. To actually _live _again."

"Are you at least taking someone with you?" Delilah opened her mouth to answer but she was cut off by a loud roar from the gates. 

**_"Human! We find milk of human kindness _now!?" **

* * *

**The Commonwealth **

**Nuka-World Transit**

**February 2282**

_"What if there was a place with all the zip of Nuka-Cola. Quench your thirst for adventure at Nuka-World!" _The upbeat jingle resonating from her Pip-Boy instilled overwhelming Deja Vu within Delilah as she closed her eyes and soaked in the nostalgia. Her heart was still beating wildly in her chest from the battle for the transit center, a bed of sweat raced down the soft skin of her back. 

Pre-War images began flickering across her eyes like an old camera film, distant cooing and infant cries pulling her back to a time when soothing car rides would calm baby Shaun. _See that, Shaun? That's Nuka-World! And we're gonna go next weekend! _She had told the baby boy who had gurgled happily in response. But when she opened her eyes, it was the husk of the transit center, dead bodies of the Gunners, and skeletons of pre-war pedestrians littered the grounds. 

_"Hiya, kids! Remember, Nuka-World is only open for a few more weeks in October! Come down and see me and Cappy one last time before buckling down for the winter! Don't forget to bring your empty bottle of Nuka-Cola to get $15 off at the gate. So, hop aboard the Nuka-Express, and come and see the whole Nuka-Family while you still can," _Lila's chest tightened as she recognized the old commercial, Bottle's dopey voice advertising their commercial.

That dumb mascot could be heard across every radio broadband network back in the day on every commercial break. Delilah used to hate hearing it, and would avidly turn the stations. But now? She couldn't fight off the faint smile that tweaked her lips. 

_"The Nuka-Express is accessible through the Nuka-World Transit Center. Parking fees will apply," _The fast-paced, 'fine print' voice rattled. _"Prices subject to change due to end of season. Nuka-World, Nuka-Express, and the Nuka-Cola characters are all registered-," _

"Strong no like voices..." Her friendly green giant friend grumbled, noticing he was glaring at her Pip-Boy. "Voices talk too fast. Voices irritating. Strong-,"

"I got you, buddy," Lila sighed as she swapped the radio station. She reached a deft hand into the flap of her pouch and retrieved a holotape. "How about something different for a change?" As she clamped the holotape into her Pip-Boy, Doris Day's voice filled the air. 

_"When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, 'what will I be?'" _

"Hmph. Better," Strong said as he followed his human through the shambled remains of the colorful transit center. 

They descended the broken escalators, pushing through a set of double red doors only to end up in a subway station. If one thing was certain, all subway stations looked the same. Piled with rubble, broken monorails, skeletons, dead bodies, living bodies-_wait, _living bodies? Delilah noticed a man writhing in pain against a pile of broken, scrap concrete and a burning barrel. His long dark hair construed his face, blood painted his clothes and his face was liberally bruised and busted. 

"Jesus. Shit. They're gonna die..." He groaned out in agony. 

Suspiciously, Delilah glanced around the transit center, holding her combat shotgun closely against her body as she approached the injured man. Strong didn't let his human from his sights as he watched for any enemies. 

"What happened to you?" Lila asked as she stopped, a few feet away from the bloodied man. 

"Raiders, that's what...those bastards have my family...You gotta help me, please!" He begged, eyes glimmering with unshed tears as he peered up at the..._Jesus Christ, _what a _woman._ Harvey kept his ploy intact, despite the moment of weakness as his eyes softened upon her beautiful physique. He forced another insufferable groan, making his body seize. If there was one thing he knew, women were sensitive. They were caregivers. He could hook this fish like nothing-,

"I only help myself," Her smooth voice replied, cold and hard and he froze at what he was hearing. "What's in it for me?"

Holy shit, was she serious? He glanced back up at her, unable to hide his shock. But as he stared into her unwavering, aquamarine eyes, he realized at that moment there wasn't room for argument. Whoever she was, she was a cold-blooded bitch if nothing else. Those eyes, hell, he spent years looking into eyes like that before he was beat into submission. Those were the eyes of a killer.

"I can pay you..." Harvey continued, stammering a bit. "You bring them back safe and I'll give you everything I have, just hear me out!"

"How the hell did you manage to escape?" She leaned her weight onto one hip and set her hand on her waist. 

"There's not very many of them. Four, maybe? Five? And with the amount of Jet they were doing to celebrate, it was easy. I picked the lock on the cage they had me in. But one of them came barreling in before I was able to free my wife and son. My wife, Lisa, told me to run. So I did. Now I gotta hope it's not too late to save them."

"Raiders, right?" Lila clarified to which he nodded. "Then they're probably dead."

"Don't say that. I won't give up on them."

"Shouldn't you take a stimpack, if you're injured so badly?" Lila asked, perking a brow. 

"No, you keep it for yourself-,"

"I wasn't offering you one, pal," She rolled her eyes. "I was making a plain statement." 

"L-Look, I can handle myself," Harvey nervously shook his head. 

"Whatever, it's your funeral."

_Damn, she really didn't care? _

"Look, they may need a stimpack more than me. Please, just find them. If not for them, then do it for the caps!" 

"I'll do it," Lila sighed, at last, rolling her eyes. "But just so you'll shut the hell up." 

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" Harvey blubbered, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a piece of paper. "Take this, It's the password to the monorail control terminal. The fastest way to get to Nuka-World is to take the Nuka-Express. But I shut it down so those bastards couldn't follow me. Find the control terminal in the office to power it back up. And hurry! God knows how much time they have left."

As she took the paper, her other hand lurched out and grabbed his arm, holding it tightly in her vice-like grip while she glared down at him. A wisp of fear shot through Harvey as he saw the sinister look she was delivering. His arm felt like it was practically burning off at her searing touch. 

"Don't get this twisted, guy. If I find out you just set me up, I'll be back. Hell or highwater. And when I'm done with you, my friend here will use your bones as toothpicks."

If this girl survived...he was totally fucked. 

* * *

**Nuka-World**

**Nuka-station**

**February 2282**

It was dark now. The hum of the monorail vibrating through the soles of Delilah Thorne's feet. Her sweaty grip on her Deliverer tightened instinctively as a cheery, woman's voice began to to echo from the old speakers in the train. Damn, how long had it been since she'd been on a train? Or any mode of transportation? That was ridiculous, of course she knew the answer. A little over 210 years. 

_"Hello, and on behalf of the Nuka-World Corporation, we'd like to welcome each and every one of you aboard the Nuka-Express Monorail!" _Delilah could make out faint glimmering lights off in the distant night. _"For your own safety, please remain seated or use the provided handrails while the train is in motion. If you'll direct your attention to the right side of the monorail, you can observe Nuka-World's famous, Fizztop Mountain. Standing at over 100 meters tall, Fizztop Mountain is the largest, man-made structure in Nuka-World! As features, the five-star Fizztop Grille." _

And there it was, still standing as if the bombs had never touched it. How was it possible that it hadn't been reduced to a pile of scrap and rubble? 

_"Coming up is the heart of Nuka-World, Nuka-Town U.S.A., featuring the Cola Cars Arena, the Bradberton Amphitheater, and The Parlor Dinner Theater-,"_

There was static buzzing in the monorail as the automated announcer was cut off. Immediately, Lila's head whipped back and forth as she made sure no one was getting the drop on her. Strong grumbled in annoyance as the speaker squealed and a sinking feeling began to fill the vault-dweller's stomach. 

_"So, Harvey bagged another sucker to help his 'family.' Can't believe that gag still works..." _

The voice was hard and ragged, like a rock slide. It definitely hit her like one. As the voice confirmed her suspicions about Harvey, anger surged through her body, her jaw clenching tightly as she wanted nothing more than to plant a bullet in Harvey's head. Shit, if that was really his name.

_"I only got a minute, so you better listen and listen good...name's Gage. Porter Gage. And the truth is, you've been set up. This ain't no rescue mission, it's a death trap. If you somehow make it through alive, I've got an interesting offer for you. In the meantime, have fun, put on a good show. I'll be watching..." _

_Put on a good show? What the hell does that mean? _Whatever the true meaning, it sat about as well in her stomach like undercooked rad-roach meat. 

The announcer resumed animatedly chirping as the monorail slowly chugged to a stop at a station. The door's hydraulics hissed as it opened and Delilah's heart did a strange flop in her chest. Agonizingly slow, she exited the train, the sharp, cold air of the winterized wasteland tickling at her sweating body. The station was just as ruined as everything else, piles of trash here and there, and Nuka merchandise _everywhere._ On a desk before her, sat a terminal, it's green light casting a glow in the abyss of the train station. As she took her first step, foot grazing the concrete, she heard a loud voice ringing out. 

_"Attention, all my favorite undesirables out there! In case you haven't noticed, it looks like we have some fresh meat to run the Gauntlet!"_

It was then she noticed the shrine of the raiders, heads of unfortunate souls speared through their mouths on a display. To her left was an elevator and Strong watched as she lurched for it, her thumb jabbing the buttons animatedly before her head hung low as she realized the power was off. She skipped back to the train immediately pulling levers and pressing buttons, but the lights were dim now, the train's power had been cut as well. As she exited the rain again Strong finally mumbled his thoughts aloud. 

"Strong feels strange. Like enemies watching," The giant green mutant grumbled, small eyes sliding to and fro. 

_Que Sera _was looped to play again as Doris continued to serenade the air of the empty train station. 

"Fuck...what the hell is going on here? What the fuck is a Gauntlet?" Lila spoke to herself as she approached the terminal. It was unlocked as she accessed the files she could feel her heart thumping wildly again, adrenaline pulsing through her veins like a drug. 

It was just to antagonize her. Nothing but taunts and death threats. 

These weren't regular Commonwealth Raiders...

"Strong...it looks like we're playing a game," Delilah spoke, at last, staring at a doorway to her right marked with bright white arrows. 

"Strong no like games," He growled, withdrawing his hammer. Why was her heart thundering so loudly in her chest? What was this feeling? God, it felt...exhilerating. Adrenaline, fear, nervousness, _excitement..._ She could die in this game. This was a gamble. A dangerous gamble. But, boy, was she curious to know what lay ahead. But she had to get her companion on board. She needed to inspire Strong to play along. After all, whoever was talking to her on the monorail told her to put on a good show. There were clearly no rules, otherwise, they would have been provided on that sick terminal. 

"Listen here, big guy," Lila faced the super mutant who gazed down at her. "I think you might like this game. There aren't any rules."

"Rules?" He tested the word with distaste. 

"Yeah," She scrunched her nose in agreement. "No rules. So this means you can do whatever you want. Kill whatever you want." The first signs of a smile began to threaten the mutant's face, so she continued. "I think the only rule, in order to win, is to survive. And there's a reward. A prize!"

"A prize?" Strong tilted his head in thought. "What...prize?"

"What do you want more than anything, big guy?" 

Strong stopped, his eyes staring straight ahead at his human who grinned at him with excitement. An ugly, toothy grin laced it's way across his large, green face as he cackled with glee. 

"Strong find milk of human kindness! Strong _drink _milk!"

"You just let me take point, my giant green friend, and I'll handle the rest. All you need to do is make sure I don't get killed." She told him as she turned back toward the doorway and began walking towards the entrance of the Gauntlet. 

_"And she's off! Let's hope our latest prey can draw some, inspiration from our previous victims..." _

* * *

**Nuka-World**

**Fizztop Mountain**

**February 2282**

Porter Gage would be lying if he said he hadn't looked over both shoulders when retiring to his room last night after he tried to summon a meeting of the gangs, a meeting which the Overboss himself had charitably missed out on. He most certainly wouldn't admit that he looked under his bed and checked his closet before locking his door extra tight. Yes, he certainly wouldn't say out loud that he was scared shitless that Nisha, leader of the bloodthirsty Disciples, would gut him in the streets like a wild Brahmiluff. Hell, shouldn't she and all of her cronies be dead by now? Living among all those corpses and the gore had to be unhealthy. But, shit, what did it matter? He had a second chance (let's be real, there has been multiple chances, this is merely the last straw) to right these wrongs Colter has done. 

_"While I find it extremely unlikely that some half-brained idiot would come waltzing through the Gauntlet **with **the capability of killing Colter should they even make it past the traps...I will certainly entertain the idea of a new Overboss. Anyone who has the capacity to complete the Gauntlet and kill Colter is already more capable than that dim wit." _

Nisha's words rose gooseflesh to his skin as he boarded the lift to Fizztop Grille. Until Colter met his demise, they had to try and cooperate with him as their leader... 

The lift jerked to a halt and Gage was face to face with gang leaders once again. And they all looked impatient as shit. 

_No matter how incompetent he might be..._ Gage swallowed nervously. Colter's incompetence was sure to get Gage killed, though...how many times had Gage lied and covered for the jack ass? The Raider had half a mind to put a knife between his ribs. If only there was a competent, unbiased third party ready to take his place. 

"You said the Overboss would be up and waiting for us when we got here," Mags spoke lowly, crossing her arms over her chest as her brother withdrew his pistol, letting it hand limply at his side. "Where. Is. He."

Gage didn't dare look at the Disciple leader to his right and nodded in understanding. 

"You guys just get comfy, I'll go get the boss," Gage laughed uneasily, slipping between Mason, the leader of the Pack, and William. He had already seen the devilish glint of a blade in Nisha's hand. Or he thought. Perhaps it was a ring? Nope, fuck it, he didn't want to be close enough to find out. 

"Hurry the fuck up, Gage! The Pack don't play nice when I ain't around!" He heard Mason snarl after him.

Inside the Grille, Gage scouted the ruined old restaurant before he finally found their _feared and respected _Overboss slumped over a toilet in the bathroom. He was clearly coming off a bender and was out cold. Gage cursed audibly, grabbing a half-drunk, Nuka Grape off a nearby table and poured it on Colter's face. The raider overlord awoke, spitting and sputtering, curses frothing at the mouth. 

"-fuck, _fuck! _Gage, what the fuck are you doin'!?" Colter coughed, swinging his arm blindly. 

"Get the fuck up, boss, we got angry Disciples, Operators and Pack members in your apartment!" Gage told him simply. Colter stiffened as his brown eyes flickered up to look at his noble second. 

"-eh? And why the fuck are they there? Tell them to fuck off!" Colter growled, wobbling to his feet. 

"Can't, boss. They showed up yesterday while you were at Cappy's getting blitzed off your ass, knee-deep in god knows who and fuck-knows what," Gage trailed behind, Colter slinging the sticky sweet grape-flavored beverage off his closely shaved head. "I had to blow them off yesterday. It ain't gonna' fly today." 

"Blow them off, eh?" Colter laughed derisively and Gage burned with irritation. 

"C'mon, Colt, they're here to talk about those parks. Just tell them what they want to hear and they'll leave you alone for at least another month-," Gage was cut off midsentence as Colter spun on him, thrusting a finger in Gage's chest. 

"Here's the thing, Gagey-boy, I don't rightly give a shit what they think. So tell them to fuck off or I'll-,"

_"Gage," _The voice of Nisha caused the two mean to stiffen as she stood in the doorway between the loft and the old restaurant. "I see you've found Colter. Will you two be joining us?"

Colter gaped at the Disciple leader for a moment, unable to find the gall to tell her no. Her lips quirked upward as she gave an affirming nod before retreating back through the door. 

"You said _members_ you didn't say that fucking psychopath was waiting in my quarters!" Colter snarled at Gage. The raider merely shrugged, relishing that Colter was equally as uncomfortable with Nisha as he was. The two entered the Grille once more, seeing the leaders of the gangs moseying around his quarters quietly. Their heated eyes fell on their Overboss who cackled in forced glee. 

"A surprise party? Ye' shouldn't have..." The Overboss laughed as he walked toward them. 

"We were supposed to meet yesterday, boss, what gives?" Mason demanded, his large hulking figure rising to full form as he rose off the couch. Colter paled in comparison to Mason by a landslide. Mason was carved out of wrought iron muscle, his tall 6"3 height had him towering over nearly everyone. Colter was a plain stale cracker, with facial stubble to match his hair stubble. He was soft around the middle, and his nose appeared to have been broken more than once. The only interesting thing about the sod was his accent. It was enough to make almost any girl hop into bed with him. 

Although the purple soda he was drenched in made him even less desirable. 

"Clean yourself up Colter," Nisha's smoky voice wove through the air as she passed by him, a chill falling over him like the haunting touch of a phantom breezing by. "You look like shit." 

After Colter rinsed his face off in a nearby sink and slipped on a clean shirt, he approached the small group of raiders who sat around a coffee table. A booth seat had been pulled up nearby so that the Operators could sit and not have to touch the wild animal known as Mason or the bloodthirsty freak, Nisha. It almost looked peaceful, watching as they absentmindedly spoke among themselves, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. Colter had half a mind just to talk about something else. 

As he took his seat, he quickly realized he would not get the opportunity to do such. 

"We'll cut straight to the chase, boss," Mags spoke as soon as Colter's ass hit the chair. William tossed a pamphlet on the coffee table with a section circled. Two more pamphlets smacked against the shabby, wooden table with similar circles. "Nuka-Town is overpopulated. We had too much traffic in and out and the tensions are making it harder for us to get along. It's time to start retaking the other parks."

Colter watched warily as the Operator leaned forward and gestured to the park pamphlets. He had recognized them, of course, there was an absolute fuck ton floating around the place. Just last week he had used one to start a barrel fire. 

"We've already circled the parks we want. We want the Bottling Plant," Mags explained as she pointed. "The Pack wants Safari Adventure, and the Disciples want Dry Rock Gulch."

"Okay," Colter nodded. "So what's the problem?" 

"The problem, _boss, _is that there are five territories to be claimed," Mason chimed in, unable to keep from voicing his frustration. "It don't matter any way you cut it, one of the gangs is gonna get shorted."

"Alright," The Overboss replied, but he began to sweat discreetly. Fuck, what was he supposed to say? They were all fucking bloodthirsty at this point. He knew it was cramped in Nuka-Town, but he didn't expect things to go like this. And how the fuck was he supposed to get them a park? He couldn't just walk in and raise a flag, there were dangers in each park that had been there since the bombs dropped. Dangers that would chew him up and spit him out. 

Yeah, he liked being Overboss. He could take all the shit he wanted, do whatever he wanted, and no one would say a fucking thing to him about it. Besides Gage, the clucking mother hen. But when it came to shit like this? Real, hard shit? It wasn't exactly his choice of liquor. 

"Okay? So?" William pressed. 

_"Boss?! Boss!"_

Colter could hear Red-Eye faintly exclaiming over the intercom. The raider Overboss internally keened at the distraction his stupid disc-jockey had to offer from this wretched meeting with these idiot faction leaders. His dark brown eyes narrowed on the speaker on the wall and he lurched for it.

"What is it, Red-Eye!" Colter snarled, making a demonstration of feigned impatience. Mags and William sighed heavily as they exchanged a mutual, wordless glance and sat back in their chairs. Nisha, although eyes construed, glared darkly in the direction of Gage who couldn't fight the uneasy shiver that riddled his spine.

"Oi, Boss!" Mason objected as he thumped a meaty fist on the coffee table. "We were talking about those goddamn parks! Let's finish what we started!"

_"Uh, Boss, we got runners in the Gauntlet,"_ This peaked Nisha's attention as her head snapped away from Gage and a bloodthirsty smile teased the edges of her small lips. _"And, uh, they're mid-way through...you'd be better get down here. Quick."_

"Well, I believe this calls for a bit of recess," Nisha cooed, all eyes falling on Porter Gage at that moment.

They knew what had to be done.


	3. The New Overboss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pack Alpha licked his lips tantalizingly slow as he stared at this woman who just brutally slaughtered Colter. Her wild, dark curls flicked over her shoulders as she looked from side to side, aware that she had stunned the crowd into a low murmuring silence. 
> 
> "Anyone gonna let me the fuck out? Or am I gonna have to kick this door down myself.:"
> 
> She liked to show her teeth, huh? Shit, he had a pretty good idea of what she could do with that mouth. But he had to wait. He was nothing, if not patient. And if he knew Gage like he thought he did? Then this little cub would be around soon. Real fucking soon.

**Nuka-World**

**Cola-Cars Arena**

**February 2282**

The Alpha entered the arena, the hollering and howling of his fellow packmates fueled his blood lust. They were ready to watch bloodshed, but little did they know he was placing his chips on the little mouse that had snuck through the Gauntlet unscathed. He had heard the desperation in Red-Eye's voice in Colter's quarters. Whoever this guy is, he's done enough to spook the disc-jockey, and that counts for something in his book. He knew Gage was briefing the newcomer on the fight, how it is rigged, and what to do. All the gang bosses knew. But it didn't mean his plan would work. 

He could hear Colter, rallying the raiders, feeding into the craving for carnage as the tensions heightened and the crowd became rowdy with impatience. It was a matter of time. Would Colter finally meet his end? Would his reign of terror be over?

_"-and you...are you ready to die?" _ Colter sneered as the security door flung open. 

Out of the darkness of the shadows, stepping slowly into the light...was a woman. 

Holy fuck, not what he expected..._at all._

Mason could see it have thrown Colter for a loop as the Overboss automatically lowered his weapon. 

"What the-, are you serious?" Colter demanded. "Look girlie, I don't know how you got down here, but I'm supposed to be fighting the sod that made it through the Gauntlet."

"Yeesh," The woman chuckled as she placed a hand on her hip. "You really know how to speak to a lady."

"I'm finding it a bit hard to believe _you _made it through our little torture maze on your own..." He could hear the accusation in his tone and could imagine Colter furrowing his brows in confusion. But the woman cocked her head to the side, taking in his power armor that buzzed with bright blue electricity. 

"So...this is your secret weapon?" She disregarded his statement like he hadn't said a word. "A bucket of bolts and scrap metal plugged into an outlet? Cute...I think it's time we pulled your cord, Colter."

"What..." He demanded flatly, bristling at her insult. 

"Allow me to introduce you to _my _secret weapon..._Strong?"_ She glanced backward and all eyes watched a hulking figure ducked through the door way. There stood a giant, green supermutant, glaring at the overboss that stood before them. 

_"Is that a fucking mutant?"_

_"How the hell has it not killed her?!"_

"Strong, dear, it seems our little game has come to an end," The she-devil spoke sadly to which the mutant's face darkened with explicit rage. 

"Where. Is. Milk."

"What?!" Colter choked out. 

"Strong not have time for games! Where is milk of human kindness!?" The supermutant named Strong roared as he stepped around his master. 

"Strong, I think he may be hiding it in his suit," The beautiful lady told him as she lay a small hand upon his massive muscled arms. "You remember that suit Danse wears, right? And how mean he is to you? I want you to do to this man what you've pictured doing to Danse. Okay, big guy?"

The malicious smile that stretched across Strong's face sent a minuscule shiver down Mason's spine as Strong propped his hammer up in his hands. 

"Strong rip human from tin can...Strong crush puny human with his hands..." 

"Fuck you!" Colter shouted as he raised his gun. 

Strong gave a mighty roar and launched his sledge at the Overboss. Colter only got to fire off one round before the sledge hit him in his cranium piece. Damn, it rocked his fucking world. He was surprised to feel pain blossoming on the front of his head as he felt hot blood stream down his cheek from a cut on his forehead. Colter gnashed his teeth as he raised his gun, looking back up and raising his gun...

The girl was gone. 

The supermutant as well. 

_"Wow! They got a hit on the Overboss right out the gate. Don't look now Colter, but they're using stealthboys!" _

Colter paled as he realized they were hiding in plain sight. The sledgehammer still lay abandoned at his feet. _No, don't lose your shit. You're the Overboss...you're safe inside this armor. You'll win this. You always do..._ He swiveled back and forth, waiting for some sign that they were nearby, closing in on him. Shit, they had to be. That was the ploy, wasn't it? 

_"Don't be a coward, Colter," _He heard the woman's voice coo softly and he swiveled to his right, giving an animalistic roar as he sprayed the entire right wall, taking out two raiders in the stands. _"Now, that wasn't very nice, killing the men who are cheering for you!"_

"You fucking bitch! Quit playing games and face me!" The raider screamed, clutching his gun tightly.

_"But I thought this was a game? Is it not?"_

"No! I win this game. I always fucking do! Now come out!" He sprayed another wave of rounds into the arena. Colter could have sworn he heard a grunt after he peppered the bumper cars with bullets and he paused. The roar of the crowd was deafening, so the Overboss's eyes flicked to and fro, tagging every movement within the arena, which wasn't much. 

As his gaze briefly fell upon his feet, he noticed a small, satin red puddle before him. He did a mental once over. He hadn't been hit, had he? And then he realized...Shit, he actually got one of them. And just as a triumphant smile split over his face, her heard her voice again. _Much _closer this time. 

_"You look a little parched, Colter. Need some water?" _

"Wha-!?" Colter didn't even finish the word before the black-haired, she-devil developed to his left just out of arms distance, one hand clutching her bloody right hip as she brandished a tiny red _squirt gun!?_ He had seen that particular squirt gun before. They littered the arcade where he found himself while riding out a high. How the hell had she gotten one? And more importantly, why? To answer his question, water splashed against his armor and Colter could have laughed at the pathetic attempt before he felt his power armor seizing and shaking and then the smell of smoke filled his nose as the comforting thrum of electricity left his suit. 

The Overboss realized, at this moment, he'd been betrayed. 

"Gage-!" He shouted, before he was caught from behind and hoisted into the air by a strong forc...it was that super mutant. 

"Ha-ha-ha! I've got you, puny human!" Strong laughed maniacally as the raider thrashed against him to no avail. Colter grunted as he struggled, but his power armor weighed a fuck ton without the source of power to keep him moving. That was the whole point of ditching a fusion core. God, he was so screwed. And as the woman approached him, he felt a sliver of fear within him. 

"Hm...what was your record? A minute and thirty seconds?" Delilah laughed as she watched the man in ridiculous power armor fumble against her companion. She pulled her hand off her blood-soaked hip, laying it upon the weapon strapped to her back. She unholstered her combat shotgun from her back and offered another sinister smile as she racked it. "This gun is called the Pursuit of Happiness. And right now, I'm trying to pursue my happiness, but you're standing in the way. That's a problem." 

Her aquamarine eyes flickered to strong who grinned demonically and let out a yell as he squeezed down on the man in the power armor suit. There were sparks, flashes, more smoke and the crunch and groans of the metal caving into the man within the suit was...harmonic. Colter let out a bloodcurdling scream as his ribs snapped inwardly. Strong dropped him onto the floor, wires severed from the suit as Colter's last line of protection was snagged from him. The raider was gasping from within the metal coffin he was now trapped in. 

"I thought about letting my friend here peel that suit of yours from your living body while you kicked and screamed. But I like it better this way. I get to watch the life leave your eyes...actually, Strong, help him with this ridiculous helmet?" 

The supermutant bent over him and he felt the power armor being ripped apart and peeled down to his neck like a chocolate bar. He gasped, still struggling to breathe from his broken ribs as he now faced to face with the demon of a woman who stood before him. Delilah perked a perfect brow as she stared at this plain man. He was not at all what she expect. His face was sweaty and covered in his own blood and his crooked teeth gnashed in agony. His hair was shaved, slight stubble shadowing his chin...this was the fearless Overboss?

Pathetic.

She pointed the barrel of her shotgun down at his forehead and he managed to sputter out one final sentence, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

"Y-You're sick! Fucked up i-in the h-head!" 

Lila raised an eyebrow. 

"Wow. That...That's rich coming from a raider..."

She polished her sentence off with two blasts into the raider's head, pumping his skull full of lead as blood and gore splattered against her armor...and the Pack Alpha who sat directly behind this performance. 

_"Holy shit! I don't...I don't even know what this means, man! Colter...he's out!"_

Mason could feel Colter's hot blood speckle against his face, his jaw unhinging as he gazed upon this woman...She was fucking gorgeous, from her wild, curly black hair and luscious caramel skin, even her perfectly full lips. And her eyes, they were the brightest blue-green he had ever seen in his life. And all he could picture was them rolling back into her head while those sweet lips screamed his name. 

Her face was littered with scratches, covered with soot and splotched with crusty dried blood. Her harness was drenched in her own scarlet essence, dripping onto the floor beneath her. Mason could hear her ragged breathing and she looked at her giant green companion. He grunted, seemingly displeased with the obvious lack of spoils. It was evident there was no _milk._

_"Gage...what the hell just happened?" _

"You saw it, we all saw it! Colter's dead...and we've got ourselves a new Overboss."

Delilah's eyes swiveled toward the security door nearby, seeing the silhouette of a raider talking into a showman's microphone. They needed to open this door. Right, fucking, now. Someone needed to pull this bullet out of her hip. She could hear the rebuttal toward's Gage, the man who just asserted her new title. She didn't care about the doubt, all she cared about was letting a round of Med-X numb her body. She had been trapped in that gory Gauntlet for eight whole hours. It was time for a hell of a good nap. 

The Pack Alpha licked his lips tantalizingly slow as he stared at this woman who just brutally slaughtered Colter. Her wild, dark curls flicked over her shoulders as she looked from side to side, aware that she had stunned the crowd into a low murmuring silence.

"Anyone gonna let me the fuck out? Or am I gonna have to kick this door down myself.:"

She liked to show her teeth, huh? Shit, he had a pretty good idea of what she could do with that mouth. But he had to wait. He was nothing, if not patient. And if he knew Gage like he thought he did? Then this little cub would be around soon. Real fucking soon.

* * *

**Nuka-World**

**Fizztop Grille**

**February 2278**

"Shit! Watch it!" 

Delilah let out another hiss of pain as she bit into the straw pillow. 

"Sorry, boss," The girl with the blinking red collar apologized as she resurfaced from her work on the vault-dweller with bloody tongs and a scalpel. "It's just in there kind of deep..."

"Well then, just get it the fuck out!" Lila groaned as she lay her sweaty head back against the dirty mattress. "Just stop making it hurt so bad...and stop calling me 'boss' that shit is weird..."

"Hurry up with her, Mackenzie," Lila heard her new 'friend' Gage grumble from a chair nearby. "She's got shit to do."

"Hey, listen here, 'pal,'" Lila sneered, lifting her head off the mattress to glower at the raider who smiled smugly at her. "I outta' pump you and Red-Eye full of lead for that shit you two pulled in the Gauntlet! So, if you think I'm about to hobble anywhere for you, you've got another-**SHIT!"**

Mackenzie had finally found the stray bullet in the Overboss' hip and decided to pull it out in one, clean and swift motion while Delilah was distracted. The pain was almost enough to make Delilah delirious as she felt faint, laying her balmy face back against the mattress, squeaking out a small curse. Mackenzie gently hushed her as she poked the syringe of Med-X near her wound and injected the numbing agent. Warmth filled Lila's dirty, cold, and wet body as the drug ran through her system like a jackrabbit. Humming, Lila faintly shut her eyes as Mackenzie patched the wound and stuck her with a final stimpack to ignite the healing process. 

"She might be out of it for a few hours...If I may, it might be best to let her rest.," Mackenzie told Gage meekly as she threw away the soiled medical supplies. Gage's good eye hardened on the slave as he cocked his chin at her. 

"Get out of here."

The slave scurried away quickly and Gage rose to his feet, walking over to investigate the new Overboss. She was out like a light now. Thick lashes shrouded those fiery blue-green eyes and her black hair was matted against her slick face. All armor had been removed, displaying every inch of her tattooed, exotic skin, save for what her harness and bra covered. Gage inwardly whistled. The Wasteland just didn't make women like this anymore. He noticed a stray strand of hair sticking to her lush, bottom lip and Gage instinctively reached to move it out of her face. 

A voice stopped him, just a millimeter short of contact. 

"Strong break human's hands. Human no touch Dee-Li-Luh," He heard her mutant speak and Gage's hand immediately fell back to his side. Although Gage's intentions had been nothing short of pure, he didn't feel like watching a supermutant use his hands as toothpicks. With a hefty sigh, Porter Gage decided to let her have it. She had run the Gauntlet for close to 22 hours. It was late, well, early. Everyone would need to be resting up. Tomorrow would be a brand new day with a brand new leader. He only hoped she'd live up to the title.

* * *

_"-and then, Roger had the absolute nerve to walk into the house, without so much as a 'Hi honey!' Just walked in like he hadn't known I'd caught him with that slutty redhead sitting on his desk!" Amelia Blake had groaned, laying a hand to her head, the other clutching a martini glass tightly. "Oh, Lila, darling, be glad you never did marry. Men are so damn troublesome."_

_Delilah raised the glass to her ruby red lips, rolling those bright blue eyes as she took a generous sip. _

_"Men are of the devil," Lila hummed as she lowered her glass and ran her free hand down her inked arm. Phoebe Martin scoffed, flicking a spiral curl out of her face with attitude as she picked up her cigarette carton and lit a cigarette. _

_"My husband, Donald, is an absolute dear if you ask me!" She spoke around the stub in her mouth. Lila's face soured as she picked up her pack as well. _

_"It's a good thing no one is asking you," Delilah scoffed and Phoebe let out a startled choke as Amelia began to chortle goodnaturedly. _

_"Don't tell me you're still chasing after that soldier?" Phoebe mumbled darkly, aiming low. "It's so unattractive to see a woman chasing after a man who doesn't love her."_

_"Well then, I suppose you'd know all about that from your dear dad," Delilah quipped and Amelia began to sense the tension had taken a darker turn. "If you want to turn this into a pissing match, Phoebe, I promise I will hurt your feelings."_

_"Ladies, ladies!" Amelia finally interjected, setting her martini glass down to step in front of the two women glaring heatedly at one another. "You're both pretty-,"_

_"You're not defending this _slag, _Amelia, are you?" Phoebe sneered, glaring at the exotic women smoking her cigarette as Lila arced a perfect dark brow. "She doesn't know a thing about the covenant of marriage and here she is, dragging my family name!" _

_"Phoebe," Amelia groaned, running a hand through her blonde curls and glanced over at Delilah who seemed completely unbothered by the whole ordeal. _

_"I want an apology," Phoebe demanded, sitting back in her seat. Delilah couldn't fight the arrogant grin that slipped across her face as she forced a derisive laugh. _

_"Want in one hand and shit in the other, Phoebe, see which one fills up first," Lila scoffed, ashing her cigarette. "You are such an ignorant twat, Phoebe-Marie. You act like you don't notice your husband sitting too close to his secretary like you don't notice him checking out other women while you're around, like he doesn't hide his phone calls and emails, or comes home later than necessary. Your husband is the poster child for a cheating spouse and you are the poster child for a clown." _

_Phoebe and Amelia were stunned into silence, gaping at her like fish out of water. Phoebe choked, stifling an injured sob before running out of the sunroom, crying uncontrollably. Amelia sent a glower toward Lila who stared out the window of the sunroom, down at the bustling city below. Amelia puffed her chest out, summoning the courage to speak.  
_

_"That last bit was a little unnecessary, Delilah. You may have been right about Phoebe and her husband, but I'll be damned if you're not the poster-child for a heartbroken, bitter women, obsessed over a man she will never have," That cut through Delilah in a way that Phoebe had failed to. Amelia's heels clicked loudly against the ground as she smoothed out her sundress and grabbed her purse. "I'll call you this Friday and we'll arrange some plans to meet up again. Give yourself and Phoebe some time to cool down."_

_The door slammed shut shortly after. Lila sighed and grabbed her martini, skulling the remnant of her drink as her ears picked up the telltale signs of Patsy Cline's _She's Got You _playing softly in the background. She felt a vibration beneath her thigh and she pulled out her phone from beneath her jean-clad legs. It was a text. _

** Are you busy later?  **

** Sent 1:07 **

_Delilah sighed heavily, sending a quick response back to Jack Martin. _

_Phoebe's husband. _


End file.
